SA Red Kettle Fund Drive. Part II - Alvin

The Raley's Supermarket (not the one where I blogged about the VFW Buddy Poppies) at the Century Plaza is practically situated next to Gottchalks . In front of the market's main entrance, there was an elderly black man ringing the bells for the red kettle Christmas fund drive. So, it was a surprise for us to see two Salvation Army red kettles only steps away from each other. Since our appointed assignment was at Gottchalks, that's where we went. But we were still curious with whom or what organization this fellow associated.

After driving Martha home I came back to Gottchalks. I wanted to find out who that bell ringer was. Besides, we needed some cleaning sponges. I took a bulging coin purse with me and went to Raley's.

I couldn't find the utility sponges (translation: this guy didn't know where to look) so I decided I would have better luck with this other bell ringer person. I emptied several dollars of changes into the kettle while chatted with the man. He called himself Alvin.

Alvin worked alone from 9 to 6. He came from Lodi (45+miles north of Modesto). He earned $6.75 an hour.

I went back to Irene with the good news and the bad news. The good news was I found out Alvin was a seasonal worker hired by Salvation Army to do the fund drive. The bad news was I couldn't find the type of kitchen sponges Irene wanted.

I beckoned Irene to go look for the sponges. This was the time a woman got to to do a woman got to do. To buffer my embrassment at the failed task , I thought it would be nice if she could say hello to Alvin.

After our shift was over, we went to Raley's for the sponges. I handed Alvin enough money for a dinner that evening. He was surprised. He thanked and then hugged me.

Alvin and us exchanged the "C" word in our goodbyes. Yes, Christmas is the reason for the season - always.

SA Red Kettle Fund Drive. Part I - Martha

It had stopped raining when we arrived at the Century Plaza. The autmnal sun was playing hide-and-seek with the cumulus clouds. Scattered leaves were blown about by a chilly wind. They swirled and eddied round the parking lot. An elderly lady from our church had the solo watch of the red kettle at Gottchalks from 11 to 1. Her name was Martha. Although we go the same church, we had not met before until this past Saturday.

Ten minutes went by since we donned our red aprons and started our bell ringing duty. Martha still had not left. She stood aside and waited. I had to ask.

"My daughter is going pick me up. We are going to a wedding." She said.
"When is the wedding?" I inquired.
"Two O'Clock." She casually replied.

Martha was not attired to attend a wedding while she did her two-hour stint bell ringing at the Gottchalk. That much was certain. I was piqued as to why she didn't seem perturb at the possiblity of missing the wedding ceremony.

"I think you had better call your daughter." I offered Martha my cell phone.
"She is still not readied." She concluded after talking with her daughter.
"Could I drive you to the wedding instead?" I was getting a bit anxious for her.
"Actually, I don't want to go to the wedding. I want to go home." Martha explained.

As it turned out, Martha was not acquainted with the bride and groom, much less received an invitation to attend the wedding. They were her daughter's friends. She depended on her daughter to take her home after the red kettle Christmas fund drive. The latter was Martha's transportation home. The plan was for Martha to go to the wedding first, then home.

I offered to drive Martha home, while Irene continued her duties at the red kettle. Martha was relieved that I would drive her home. She didn't want to go to a wedding not invited.

During the 10-mile one way jaunt to her home out in the country on Paradise Road, I came to know more of Martha and her family. They have lived and worked in Modesto since the 1950s. Both she and her daughter are widowed. They and a granddaughter now live in the same house.

The round-trip back to the shopping center took about an hour. It was a blessing for us to come to know Martha this day. We'll give Martha her red kettle bell ringer picture next time we meet.

God has a purpose for everything.

Bach and Vivaldi and Scarlatti, Oh My!

It's almost midnight. I thought some on-line classical music would help set the mood to pen an account of an eventful day. (To pen something using a wordprocessor is an oxymoron in today's Internet speak. Sigh.)

Alas, my favorite Winamp station has been playing continuously a string (pun) of "bouncy" Bach partitas, Vivaldi concerti, and Scalatti's quartets. Enough already.

I suppose it's too much to hope at this late hour for John Rutter's choral piece "What Sweeter Music." It's taken from the original title A Christmas Carol Sung to the King in the Presence at Whitehall by Robert Herrick (1591-1674).

Chorus: What sweeter music can we bring,
than a carol for to sing
the birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! awake the string!
Heart, ear, and eye, and everything
awake! the while the active finger
runs division with the singer.

Now, that's a piece to reflect upon and to pen by.

I am going to call it a night.

Off to Salvation Army Bell Ringing

It's raining at this moment.

Three care packages mailed out this morning to the Any Soldier recipients.

Having a quick lunch now and will be heading out to Gottchalks at the Century Plaza to do a two-hour shift of red kettle bell ringing.

The Perpetual Kitten

Le Chat Qui A Joué Fauré

Mocha, the new neighbor's cat, thinks my front lawn is her prized litter box. She prowls about my property constantly. I suppose the grass is greener on this side of the fence. There are no other usual suspects within Mocha's whisker or whiskers. Every now and then I espy a Cheshire Cat grin from you know what. Perpetual and circumstantial evidence lays it all out on the grass. It is guilty as charged.

Yet there is more than one way to sleuth a cat. I have just the title and jacket cover for the next Lilian Jackson Braun thriller, "Le Chat Qui A Joué Fauré"* (The Cat Who Played Fauré). It suits nicely as the sequel to "The Cat Who Played Brahms." I should have my people call her people to do a Kit Kat bar power munch and hash out a contract.

There is always someone like Rindawriter who loves cats and speaks to them the Dr. Doolittle way, however.

To each his own meow.

* Fauré: Complete Works for Cello

Shopping for the Troops

We are on a mission. Shopping for the troops. It's a jungle out there on this after Thanksgiving day. Off to Costco we go.

In the meantime, if you are reading this, go to the sidebar and link the Any Soldier site for details. We have been sending care packages, admittedly not often enough, to our troops in the Middle East and Bosnia since Gulf War I.

If you haven't already, why not make this Any Soldier care packaging to the troops your personal or neighborhood project this holiday season and beyond. They need more than lip service and car decals. After all, it is they who gave their todays for our tomorrows.

On Thanksgiving

Izaak Walton Hotel, Essex, MT. 08-24-04


God has two dwellings: one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart.
--Izaak Walton (1593-1683)


Read President Abraham Lincoln's 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation here.

Some Enchanted Evening

Elegance is something more than ease--more than a freedom from awkwardness and restraint. It implies a precision, a polish, and a sparkling which is spirited, yet delicate.

--William Hazlitt (1778 - 1830)

Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is His greatest gift to humanity. This is once more affirmed in last evening's Marie-Andreé Ostiguy piano concert. Her artistry is elegance epitomized.

Log the Walk

This blog is written on the iPAQ 5500 and sent to my weblog site using a WLAN connection.

I have a pedometer that can be called a classic, if the same age criterion accorded to a 20-year-old Honda is applied.

I bought this plastic molded instrument back in the days when "green stamps" redemption stores were in vogue. One such store in my neighborhood is now doing Sherwin-Williams home decors.

This unprentious pre-digital era counter is a simple two-control operation. Unlike today's consumer electronics, there are no modes nor settings in this meter. It has one lever on the side to set the stride length in inches. On top, there is a reset button for a four-cylinder display (000.0) of miles walked.

This thing does what it designed to do. But I have reset it accidentally in too many times than I care to count. As they say, all were user induced errors. After taking it with us on this past summer vacation to the American Rockies, the countdown for a replacement began.

Today, I have added a digital pedometer to a list of growing battery-dependent home and personal "appliances." The thought of buying Duracell stocks is becoming more attractive each step of the way.

How Will I Serve Mine?

This blog is written on the iPAQ 5500 and sent to my weblog site using a WLAN connection.

Last evening, our small group concluded its six-week study of Rick Warren's "The Purpose Driven Life." Except for Phil & Mary, the facilitators, Irene and I did not know who others were in the group.

We were the youngest two in the group. The others five couples were grandparents or in retirement. What faults, thoughts, inspirations, and hopes we shared in these past weeks transcended demographic identities. More important, our collective experience brought each of us a closer understanding of God's purpose for our being.

We have started as distant cousins in God's family. We are now a band of brothers and sisters. "In Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others." Romans 12:5 (NIV).

Surely, the many Biblical principles expounded in this purpose driven life book will be revisited. Having this book in a digital PDA format facilitates the reviews and evaluations of my life according to His purpose for me.

"For David ... had served the purpose of God in his own generation." Acts 13:36 (NASB). How will I serve mine?